


Purgatory

by LLN3dseestheLight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Everyone Kisses Stiles, F/M, Hunter Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Multi, Stiles and Kate did the do, life after death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-07 11:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12840420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLN3dseestheLight/pseuds/LLN3dseestheLight
Summary: Stiles turned to hunting after his pack died twenty five years ago. He become the boogieman all other Hunters feared... 'We hunt those who would subdue us' had become his creed. What Stiles never thought would happen after his death was that he would wake upon the Nemeton in the woods where he played as a youth. Stiles was just glad he still had his weapons. He knew that if he went left...and eight miles he would get to Beacon Hills...if he went right..for a couple miles Stiles would come to the Hale House.No matter which way he choose Stiles would learn that in PURGATORY... was the place where all supernatural creatures, even those humans with supernatural blood, and hunters went when they died rather to Heaven or Hell...In PURGATORY Stiles would come across old friends, enemies and maybe find a love he missed out on in life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Twenty-five years ago.**

_Chris Argent looked up from his place on his living room floor, in shock as Stiles Stilinski crouched over him. The boy held one of Allison's Chinese ring daggers at his throat. Stiles glared, hatefully, down at him. Chris knew why, Stiles was here...but he needed to hear the teen say it. "Stiles..."_

_"They are dead, Argent! My father, Melissa! The younger members of my pack! I don't know where that coward Scott ran off too or where Malia is! I just know their gone! And my pack is dead! And it's the fault of Hunters!" Stiles pressed the dagger harder against Chris's throat until a drop of blood beaded up on his neck. "You're going to **train** me. Teach me **everything** , you know." Stiles hissed, softly, deadly, "Then when you have nothing left to teach me? You'll turn me loose on Kate and the Calaveras."_

_"It won't bring your pack or father back, Stiles."_

_"No, no it won't," Stiles agreed, leaning closer to Chris, and whispered into his ear, "But it will **make** **me** **feel** **better**..."_

_Chris looked into cold amber eyes._

_This._

_This was what he had been waiting for._

**Present Day.**

Stiles ran through the vast Canadian forest. The moon was so full in the night sky. If you looked up you could clearly see the Orion constellation. Stiles should have known it was a trap. Allies from the old days of Beacon Hills always turned out to be new enemies, for him. One would think Stiles would have known better than to trust Braedan. But her information had always been sound the few other times her services had been purchased. Stiles should have known something was up when she offered the whereabouts of Kate Argent for free.

 _Magnus will never let me live this down,_ Stiles thought, as he ducked behind a tree as bullets flew behind him. Magnus Bane had once been the High Warlock of Brooklyn but had left the position behind, when he joined Stiles mad crusade against the Hunters after losing two good friends to them.

 _You would think that crazy bitch would have come up with so new tricks, Lord knows that she had the time to learn some.._ Smoke bombs, bullets, and flash-bombs. Sometimes Stiles thought that Kate forgot that he **wasn't** a wolf **.** Stiles leaned back against the big tree that was shielding him. Stiles pushed his long scarlet leather trench coat aside as he pulled his 9mm from a high holster on his upper thigh. Stiles cursed softly as snow began to fall. Stiles hated Canada, it didn't matter to him if most were-wolves thought it was paradise on earth.

" _Who's afraid of the big bad wolf_..." a familiar and much hated husky female voice sang out through the forest.

"You're not a wolf!" Stiles shouted, "Your an alley-cat with delusions of grandeur!"

"Aw, lover, don't you like our little game of cat and mouse?" Kate asked, her voice a sweet purr, on the wind. Stiles could see flashes of blonde hair lurking behind a giant rock fifty feet away. "You must, we've been playing it for almost two decades now."

Stiles had many regrets in his life. He regretted the night he took his best friend into the woods to look for a dead body, that turned out to be the sister of a were-wolf killed by the siblings insane uncle. He regretted that Allison was killed by the Nogitsune when it possessed him. He regretted that Derek Hale died alone by Kate Argents hand half way across the world from Beacon Hills. Stiles regretted that he couldn't stop the Calaveras from killing his family and young pack members.

The few times Stiles had hate-sex with Kate Argent over the years was the least of his regrets. It was something he wished hadn't happened more than once but...it had given Stiles a greater insight to the woman than he thought Kate realized. Stiles knew the demons that drove the blonde to her actions. That didn't mean he felt sorry for her or accepted what she had done over the years, only that he could understand why.

Stiles didn't like understanding the woman...because that meant she understood him just as much. It was the main reason they still hunted each other after everything they had been through all these years. Neither could stand the thought of someone knowing them so well.

"We wouldn't be doing this if you could keep control of you homicidal tenacities!" Stiles yelled.

"Are you still upset? I didn't even touch your baby monsters."

"Your the monster, Kate! You always were!"

"Ouch! Tell me how you really feel. I can't help being what my Daddy made me. The question _Stiles_ ," the blonde hissed, her voice sounding closer now, "is who made _you_ into one?"

That was a loaded question. One Stiles really didn't want to think about. Because his body count was just as high as Kate's was, though more hunters had died by his hand than supernatural beings. It didn't make Stiles any less of a killer.

"Did you know you have quite the reputation?" Kate asked, conversationally, something that put Stiles on edge. Whenever Kate's voice took on that tone it meant she was planning something. "What is it the Hunters call you and those feral children of yours again?"

Stiles stiffened at the mention of the children he had taken in over the years. Supernatural children and humans of packs killed by Hunters. Those that had suffered the same lost that Stiles had.

"Oh, yes...The _Blood_ _Wolves_. They are the bane of Hunters everywhere. And you, lover, are their _Lycaon_. Are you proud of yourself? I wonder," Kate paused, dramatically, "what the Hunters that _fear_ you so, those children that _follow_ you so faithfully, would do if they knew what you had been all those years ago? I mean if it hadn't been for what I did to the Hales? You would have more than likely been working at a job you hate, have a spouse that's cheating on you and kids that want nothing to do with you, right now. Really, you should be thanking me. Stiles. I saved you from that _mundane_ existence."

"I don't think I like how much thought you put in to making it sound like you did me a favor," Stiles muttered as he saw a flash of blonde hair a few trees away, he fired his gun in that direction. Stiles grinned when he heard a surprised yelp of pain from her. If he hadn't hit her he had at lease gazed Kate with a bullet.

"Damn it, Stilinski! This was a new jacket! Look, lover, I'll tell you a secret, since your _going_ _to_ _die_ _out_ _here_!" Kate screamed.

"Temper, temper, Katie-did. Sure of that are you? Remember Madrid?" Stiles did. He had almost killed the blonde that day.

Kate only laughed cheerfully. "I remember that village in the middle of nowhere and the tango we shared? But Stiles? I, never set the Calaveras on your pack back. I was too busy running from their lead dog, Nicolas Santiago, at the time."

Stiles blinked. That couldn't be right. It had to have been her. It was the only reason he could think as to why the Calaveras would let Kate live after she had killed two of their clan. She _had_ to be the one who told them that about Scott biting Liam. It was the excuse they'd used to come to Beacon Hills to hunt the pack. His father and Melissa McCall had been collateral damage during the Calaveras hunt.

"Your lying!" Stiles hissed, not believing her.

"I told you years ago," it had been just after Stiles had penned Kate to a wall. after chasing her across the country. They ended up having sex for the first time, in that seedy motel room Kate had been holed up in, "that it wasn't me."

Stiles shook his head, "Gerard-"

"Not, Daddy-Dearest," Kate sing-song, she sounded even closer now. A cloud crossed in front of the moon and what little light Stiles had was gone. He couldn't pen point where her voice was coming from. "He was too busy running from Decualion. _Come on,_ " She growled angrily, "You know who it was! The only person it could've been!"

Stiles laughed bitterly, "Are you really trying to convince me that the man who taught me everything I know about being a Hunter, that my own mentor- _Your_ _brother_? Was the one to betray us?"

"Clever Boy," Kate purred, "My dear brother lost everything because of Scott McCall, because of _you_..."

"You really _are_ crazy!" Stiles accused, knowing that if she got on the subject of Allison? Stiles would lose any advantage he might have because just the thought of Allison was enough to emotional compromise him.

"Think about it, Stiles. That day? Your father, Scott's mother, your pack members and you were all in Beacon Hills. Most of them were killed that day. But you? The only human pack member to survive? Only _you_ survived? _By chance_? No, lover, _you_ were my dear brother's revenge against the life that destroyed his. I mean that Code you go by- _We_ _hunt_ _those_ _who_ _would subdue us_. Really?"

"I didn't-" Stiles was cut off when Kate appear around the tree, she sank a clawed hand into Stiles stomach. "Yo-u bi-tch," Stiles gasped out painfully, he back-handed her. The butt of his gun connected with her jaw. Kate screaming staggered back, clawing at her own face. Stiles had coated his gun handle with Mt. Ash and Wolfsbane not only to keep his weapon from being used against him but for a purpose like that. Stiles yelled as Kate's claws were pulled roughly from his stomach.

Stiles dropped the gun covering the wound on his stomach with a hand. With his other he pulled the military grade jagged edged knife that he wore from the sheath at his back. He quickly slammed it between her ribs, knowing it would hit one of her lungs and that the yellow wolfsbane coating it, that it would work quickly on the were-jaguar. Kate looked at Stiles with wide, shocked eyes, as she gasped for breath sinking to the ground. Stiles holding the knife, followed her. In this moment she looked so young(Weres aged slower than humans, Kate looked just a little older than when Stiles met her when he was sixteen) and scared, almost innocent.

"I al-always kn-knew it w-wou-would be y-you," Kate choked on the black bile that came from her mouth as she spoke, "Th-that wo-would be m-my e-e-end."

"Even if you weren't the reason my pack was killed. Which I will never believe, you aren't. You can't say the same for Derek Hale, can you? Your death was always going to be mine for that alone."

"De-er-ek?" Kate whimpered confused, her eyes flashing that sickly pea color. She blinked taking in a ragged breath, "No-not ev-ev-en De-er-ek w-wa-was as be-bea-beautif-ul in h-his su-suf-suff-ering as y-y-you a-ar-are, l-lo-ve,"

Stiles growled and ripped the knife from Kate's ribs cruelly, "Shut up, Sweetheart," the endearment caused Kate to grin widely at him. It was something he had only called her on the nights when the sex hadn't been rough and hate-filled but that of two lonely people running from a past they could not escape. He twisted the knife in his hand and brought the sharp jagged edge down across Kate's throat. Hot blood that wasn't only the were-jaguar's splashed on the snow covered ground melting it quickly were it landed.

Stiles watched as Kate fought for the last breath that was denied to her by the gapping wound in her neck. Stiles watched as the blonde woman's eyes glazed over lifeless. Stiles was fighting to keep his own open now. Strange, he couldn't feel any pain from his own wound anymore. Stiles had to make sure though, too many times Kate had escaped death. He couldn't let her near his children. Not when Stiles knew he would not be there to protect them anymore from her. He dropped the knife, it landed on the ground with a muffed thud in the snow. Stiles could feel himself falling to ground. Somehow his fingers found their way to Kate's blonde hair, the blonde locks twining around them casting the allusion, that Stiles was truly the lover Kate had named him to be.

Stiles eyes fell closed, he took a breath...it was finally over.


	2. Chapter 2

It was Stiles' own ragged in-take of breath that shocked him awake. He blinked, staring up at the sun. _I should be dead,_ he thought. In fact Stiles died right next to... he shot up, wildly looking around for the were-jaguar but saw he was alone. Stiles frowned, it was strange he wasn't in any pain and he should be...he had taken Kate's claws through his stomach. He pulled up his shirt, there were no marks on his clothes from where Kate had torn through them, no jagged marks or scars. Stiles also noticed he didn't have any of the sort of aches and pains that come with being a forty-six year old man. Stiles was still in a forest.

It wasn't the Canadian one that he had died in. Looking around he could see he was in a clearing, it was strange because the formation of the trees looked very familiar... _wait..._ Stiles looked down to see, to his horror, that he was sitting on the _fucking Nemeton._ Stiles ran a handover his face and froze. His face was lacking the scruff-like beard thing he had been sporting the last few years, sighing he ran a hand through his _short hair?_

_Mother Fucker!_ He hadn't wore his hair this short since he was seventeen! Rolling off the Nemeton, Stiles was glad to find that he was still dressed like he had been during his fight with Kate-his weapons were still where they were suppose to be, _thank everything!_ Stiles double checked the weapons he carried. When he was done he walked about five feet from the large stump, he turned and watched as it faded out of sight was if it never existed. Slowly Stiles made his way out of the clearing. Stiles was in the woods he played in as a child under the watchful eye of his mother, where he learned that the supernatural was real and where he had come to know the greatest losses of his life as a young adult.

The Beacon Hills Nature Preserve.

Stiles frowned, if he went right...for eight miles, he would come to his home town. If he when left...for two miles, he would come to the Hale House. That's if he was really in the Preserve. Stiles stood there for a long time before he turned...left.

Stiles quickly realized there was something wrong with this forest. The Harpy that attacked him was new. The sand traps that Stiles didn't remember ever being in the preserve and the thick mist that never seemed to burn away...even though Stiles was sure it was close to mid-day. It wouldn't be so bad if the mist didn't seem like something from a horror movie.

_If I ever see Kate..._ Stiles thought, _what I do to her won't be pretty._ The bitch had killed him...and it's not like Stiles didn't know that she wouldn't one day. It's not like Stiles was expecting heaven when he did die but as a wise woman once said-his ledger was full of red- Stiles had more blood on his hands than he like to admit. He had thought he would have more time to do something about that.

Stiles wasn't sure how long he had been walking, long enough to have- _oh, there it is..._

The Hale House rose up in the distance. The house was a four story faux-Victorian with red faded brick with painted white window panes and black shutters. It had a wrap-round porch with plenty of chairs, a large porch hamch that could fit five adults easily and there was an old wooden rocking chair at a corner of the porch. It was nothing like the modern fortress Stiles had built for the children he had taken in and trained. That had been what had made them and him feel safe. That was what they needed. Stiles made his way closer to the house stopping in the shadows of the woods. He wasn't sure of the welcome-if any-he would get. Suddenly the front door of the house opened and people started pouring out of the house, talking and laughing with each other. Some Stiles knew, others he did not.

A younger _Peter Hale,_ was laughing as he chased a pretty young woman with strawberry blonde hair, that looked like she could have been Lydia Martin's older sister. _Allison Argent_ sat down next to _Erica Reyes_ and _Vernon Boyd_ all of them looking exactly how they did when they died. Except they looked _happy_...

Stiles made a small sound that caused Erica and Boyd's head to whip around to stare at him. Allison looked over, her lips made a surprised _'oh'_. Stiles backed away slowly, he wanted to go to them but knew he didn't deserve it. He took another step back as Allison stood, walking down the steps of the porch, Erica and Boyd jump up, Boyd literally over the porch railing in his case, to follow the huntress. The others on the porch stopped to look at what had gotten the three's attention.

"Don't you take another step, Stiles Stilinski!" Allison shouted pointing at Stiles as he took another step back. "I swear by _Selene,_ I will hunt you down through the very depth of _Purgatory_!" Allison came closer and Stiles found himself froze to the spot. It was his fault this beautiful girl had died before her time. He deserved whatever punishment she dealt him. Even if she wanted to shoot him full of arrows, Stiles would hold still for it.

When Allison was finally standing in front of him, flanked by Erica and Boyd, Stiles dropped to his knees in front of the huntress.

"I'm sorry," Stiles whispered, "by the gods, Allison, I'm so sorry," he choked out, he could feel tears running down his face. Strange, he hadn't cried since...since... he threw his arms around Allison's waist and sobbed against her stomach. Stiles wasn't sure if the tears were of joy or sorrow.

Allison glanced over at Erica and Boyd with a worried look, this was not the reaction she thought Stiles would have even if many of them had something close to the same one when they had seen each other again. Allison carefully carded her finger through Stiles hair, strange...the last time she had seen him his hair had been more of a blondish wheat color than the dark chocolate colored locks that twined through her fingers. It was also shorter and laid flat rather than the anit-gravity defying look she remembered. Allison wondered if that had been a side effect of the Nogitsune possession?

"Stop," Allison whispered, gently pushed him away from her and dropped down in front of him, taking his face in her hands, "It was never your fault. You didn't kill me. The Void demon did." She raised his chin so he would look at her, "It's time you finally _believe_ that. I don't blame you. I _never_ did."

"I tried..."

"I know. I saw... we saw," at Stiles confused look, Allison explained, "The dead can see and hear the living when you think about us. I'm proud of you, Stiles. What you did after the lost of your pack, how you helped those with losses like yours."

"Proud?" Stiles asked shocked, he let Allison go, standing up, angrily," That I turned children and teens with survivors guilt into killers!"

"Yes, I'm proud!" Allison stated, " You gave them a purpose after everything they lost. You gave them family, pack and a code to live by. I'm proud that some one stood up to the Hunters and said **'No** **More'** and that they are finally being called on what they do and did!"

Stiles opened his mouth, then closed it. What could he say to that? It was true. That's what had happened even if that hadn't been his intention when he started out training with Chris Argent all those years ago. Allison smiled brightly at him as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a sweet lingering kiss.

_Wait? What? Why?_ Stiles wondered, before he realized it Allison was pulling away, her smile even brighter if that was possible, which it was.

"I've waited a long time to do that. I've missed you." Allison told him.

Stiles gave her a tentative smile, "I've missed you too."

"And what are we," Erica asked shoving Allison gently to the side. Allison glared at her for the action," chopped liver?" Erica threw herself at Stiles knowing without a doubt, her old friend- turned- Hunter, would catch her.

Stiles was her Batman after all for a reason. She wrapped her arms over Stiles neck and shoulders and her legs around his waist. Stiles stumble a bit for her weight but clamped his hands around her upper highs and kept a steady hold of her. She slanted her lips over Stiles' trying to coach them open with her tongue, slipping it in when he gasped for breath and for one sweet moment Stiles kissed her back before he shoved her off of him. Erica landed hard on the ground and glared up at Stiles as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Don't do that again." Stiles snarled.

"What only the Disney Princess is allowed to kiss you?"

"Allison didn't try to choke me with her _tongue_!" Stiles glanced at Allison, her expression amused when he said, "You were all gentlemanly about it."

"Erica," Boyd said helping the blonde girl up, "Stiles is a delicate flower, remember?" Erica glared at Boyd for his sarcasm.

"Are you still holding a grudge about what I did to your jeep?"

"You only ripped out a part of it and hit me with it! No, of course not." Erica looked relieved and Stiles couldn't have that, so he said, "I hold a grudge because it never _ran_ the way it was suppose to after that."

"Girls? Boyd?" At the sound of the female voice they all looked back a t the Hale House, a beautiful older woman stood on the porch. She had long mahogany colored hair, eyes that were a light hazel. She had the regal look of the pagan queens of old. "Why don't you bring your guest over."

"Oh, Aunt Tally," Erica said with a grin, "this is no guest."

"He's pack, family," Allison said.

A wide bright smile crossed Boyd's dark face, "This is Stiles Stilinski."

Before Stiles knew what was happening he found himself sitting on the porch wedged between Allison and Erica. Boyd sitting next to Erica. Stiles looked around the porch at members of the Hale family that Stiles had only see a couple times in the few pictures that had survived the fire.

"Release my Stiles, Huntress," _Lydia Martin,_ said in all of her strawberry blonde glory as she walked out onto the porch. She was surrounded by... _Liam Dunbar,_ and his brother _Mason Hewitt, Hayden Romero_ and _Brett Talbot,_ the younger members of Stiles' pack that had been murdered by the Calaveras. Lydia looked like she had at eighteen, yet he knew for a fact that she _should_ have been older and still _alive_. Stiles had lost touch with her when she married that asshole, Henry Bankton the Fourth, when she was thirty-two. Stiles had never trusted the man.

"Lydia? What?" Stiles exclaimed.

Lydia understanding his shock said, "It was five years ago. My beloved husband got me committed to Echein House. He figured out how to get my inheritance." Lydia's father had died when she was twenty five leaving her a fortune, "and not have to deal with my crazy." Lydia came over and crawled into Stiles lap, the way she had for months after the Wild Hunt had come through Beacon Hills. It had been a way to ground and convince herself that Stiles was _real_ and that he was actually, finally _here_.

The last year of Stiles high school days, had seen them lose members of their pack, whether they abandoned the pack or through death.

Kira Yukimura, the last Stiles knew, had been in Japan raising her and Isaac Layhe's son.

Isaac was in France being the alpha of the largest pack in France.

Malia Tate disappeared after the Calaveras had killed most of the pack. Stiles learned that she somehow had met Jackson Whittemore and had been in an a on/off again relationship until two years ago when Malia had disappeared into the moors of Scotland leaving Jackson to raise their three children.

When Lydia, Stiles and Scott were barely twenty-two, the Calaveras broke their treaty with them and killed the members of the pack that lived in Beacon Hills. That had been the younger betas, John Stilinski and Melissa McCall.

Scott had run from Beacon Hills shortly after they were killed.

Lydia had put a lot of faith into Scott but she has never trusted him or believed in him the way Stiles or the other betas had. After college, Lydia met her husband, she had tried to keep in touch with Stiles while he hunted the hunter families that broke the Code. Lydia had married Henry mostly because he was a normal human with no ties to the supernatural. It was what Lydia thought she needed at the time. Which turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life. Lydia sighed, "I'm just glad I never had children with that asshole."

"Lydia, how-" Lydia put a fingers to his lips, stopping his question.

"You don't ask that question here. It's considered...rude." Lydia told him as she slowly trailed her fingers over his lips suddenly Stiles pressed his lips to hers. The kiss is familiar for they had dated for a short period of time while Stiles had been training with Chris Argent. The kiss stole her breath way like it always had when Stiles kissed her.

For a moment Stiles lost himself to the feel of Lydia's lips.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

"Who is this guy?" Stiles heard, Damon Hale grouched to his twin, Laura, "That all of our best girls want to kiss him?"

Stiles pulled away from Lydia with a glare at the handsome man with bright sapphire colored eyes, black hair and the thick Hale eyebrows. He was sitting next to a woman with long curly dark coffee colored hair. Dark and smoky make up was around her sepia colored eyes and ruby lips.

"He's Stiles," Erica said, as if that explained everything concerning the new arrival. Erica exchanged a look with Hayden, the younger girl smirked as she went over and kissed Stiles on the forehead before going to sit on Brett's lap as Hayden took hold of Liam's hand.

Stiles shook his head at the betas before asking, "What is this place? Where are we?" He   had a few ideas. But he'd rather know for sure. Lydia smiled smugly, holding out her hand as there was a collective groan as the others of the Stiles pack placed brightly colored pieces of paper- _wait a second_...

"Is that _Monopoly_ _money_?" Stiles asked, confused.

Lydia nodded, "It's the local currency. Easier to get than gems or gold dust, less mess too."

"Where is _here_?" Stiles asked again.

"Purgatory," Peter Hale said amused, he leaned against a porch post, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were a bright shining ultramarine rather than the drab gray orbs Stiles remembered them to be. Peter also looked twenty years younger than the last time Stiles had seen the man after they had been captured when the Wild Hunt had come through Beacon Hills.

"Purgatory?" Stiles repeated, unsure.

"Yes, Mr. Stilinski," came the smooth voice of the Hale Emissary, Stiles flinched at he sound of it. He had never quite forgave Alan Deaton for getting himself killed by the Desert Wolf. While Stiles had never trusted Deaton, Stiles had trusted Deaton a hell of a lot more than Marion Morrell. The woman had been working with the Dread Doctors and later with a Nazi Werewolf that wanted to turn every human into a werewolf too.

Alan Deaton had a beautiful woman, with silvery hair, eyes the color of mercury and alabaster skin, on his arm. She looked to be the same age as Deaton maybe a few years older or younger it was hard to tell. The emissary led the woman over to one of the padded benches on the porch. Stiles realized that she was blind.

"All supernatural creatures go to Purgatory when they die. You should know this. It was in many of the books you would steal from my office." Deaton said.

"Barrowed," Stiles snapped, wrapping his arms around Lydia's waist, while Erica and Allison cuddled closer to him. At the Emissary's look, "Stealing means you never got them back, which you did. So I _barrowed_ them."

"Barrowing implies you asked permission, which _you_ never did."

"If I had asked? Would you have let me barrow them?"

"No."

"That's why I didn't ask."

"He has you there, my love," the silvery haired woman said with a laugh to Stiles, she said, "I'm Viviana Reddington-Deaton."

Stiles frowned, "Reddington? That was my mother's maiden name."

Viviana smiled, "Yes, Claudia is my half sister. One of many..."

"Don't sound so put upon, Viv, " the woman, that Peter had been chasing earlier said as she hopped up onto the railing next to Peter, her sea green eyes flashing with amusement. "You know, you adore me, Morgana and Claudia." She tossed her long wavy strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder.

"Oh, do shut up, Gloriana!" Viviana muttered.

"Why am I or Allison here? If supernatural creatures come to Purgatory when they die? We're human." Stiles said a frown.

"Because some humans do end up here. Mostly those with connections to the supernatural world. The human children of supernatural beings, the spouses, human pack members and magic users...and once in a while, hunters as well. Though the hunters end up here because they killed an innocent supernatural being. It's suppose to be a punishment for them, I think." Peter told them.

"Allison never killed an innocent." Stiles defended her.

"No," Allison laughed, "but I was a member of your pack. As frayed and frail as the bonds were. You, Scott, Isaac, Kira and even Derek thought of me as pack. So here I am."

"But what about your family-"

Allison shrugged, "I see my mother and father whenever I go into town. My mother died a werewolf and my father's hands were not a clean as I wanted believed. Just," she paused, "just like you will be able to see yours."

"What?" Stiles blinked.

"Claudia was a powerful witch," Viviana told him.

"And the Sheriff was also a part of the pack." Liam reminded Stiles.

_Oh,_ Stiles realized, _that was true. Later I'll think about seeing them later._ As if answering his thoughts a Beacon Hills county sheriff's car pulled up in front of the house and _Jordan Parrish_ got out of it. He walked up to the porch, he barely blinked when he saw Stiles but asked,

"Why are you sitting in Stiles lap, sweetheart?'

Lydia pouted, "I was just keeping him warm, darling."

Jordan smirked, "Sure, you were." Jordan then leaned forward giving Lydia a quick kiss. Stiles had known that Lydia had felt something for the deputy when they were alive but Jordan had been killed before they could explore those feelings. Strangely enough Jordan had been killed during a normal traffic stop, when he was shot in the head by a guy on Meth, who had just robbed the gas station on the edge of Beacon Hills. Jordan after his kiss with Lydia ended, Jordan turn his head and gave Stiles a sweet peck of a kiss on his cheek just above one of Stiles beauty marks causing Stiles to blink rapidly at him.

"Really, Jordy? You too?" Damon Hale moaned," What is with this kid? It he catnip or something?"

Peter laughed, "Stiles just as a way about him, nephew," he turned and gave Stiles a long slow look, "If I weren't married I'd kiss him too."

"Eww! Uncle! Peter!" Came from various Hale members.

Stiles rolled his eyes at Peter. It was nice to know he was still a creeper. Stiles looked over his own pack and the Hales, Stiles frowned someone was missing...

"Where's Derek?" Stiles asked.

There was another collective groan as once more Lydia was handed more colorful money.

"Couldn't you have waited ten more minutes?" Boyd groaned.

"Yeah," Allison muttered, "Lydia bet it wouldn't be a full ten minutes before you asked about him."

Stiles shrugged, "I thought he would hear my voice and come out of the house?"

"Oh, he's not here." Lydia said.

"Where is he," Stiles growled, worriedly. Lydia smirked at the tone, pushing his chin with a finger to face the mist covered woods. Stiles watched for a moment and saw nothing...then a dark shadow started coming closer to them. Soon Stiles was able to make out a figure of a man as the mist suddenly parted... _Derek Hale_ stood at the edge of the yard, looking like he had the very first time Stiles had seen the werewolf more than twenty years ago.

Derek was panting, sweating and shirtless... _of_ _course_ _he_ _was_ , Stiles thought, unsurprised.

Stiles gently pushed Lydia from his lap and she went to sit on Jordan's. Stiles got up and went to Derek meeting him mid-way. They stared at each other for a tense filled moment before Derek said, wearing his serial killer bitch face, "This is private property," Derek stated unhappily as he had been the first time they had met.

"Sorry," Stiles said, rubbing the back of his neck, "I-I didn't know."

Derek's expression turned shy, "Your _here_ ," he whispered, amazed.

"Yeah," Stiles said, softly.

Derek frowned, "If your here..."

"Yeah."

"How did you-" Derek was cut off when Stiles put a finger against his lips.

"I hear that's a rather rude question to ask."

Derek moved Stiles finger but didn't let go of Stiles hand as he said, "I've missed you, Stiles."

"And I you," Stiles whispered, right before punching Derek in the face.


	4. Chapter 4

Talia Hale noticed the young man in the dark crimson leather trench coat skirting the shadows at the edge of her property long before the betas had. One of the perks of being the alpha...her senses were just a bit better then theirs were. She saw the young man's wary, yet amazed expression as he watched the betas. The young man was also deck out in more weaponry than she had even seen the most season hunters carry at one time. On the breeze she could smell the Mt. Ash and wolfsbane come from him. Talia watched as his expression turned fearful and sad, it wasn't until he tried to back into the forest when Allison saw him and yelled at him to stop.

Talia had been surprised when the Argent girl had shown up on her front step, claiming to be pack. It wasn't until Erica and Boyd, Derek's betas(goddess that wasn't something she ever thought would happen. But Derek had done the best he could for never having been trained to be an alpha.)reluctantly vouched for the girl. Still upset about Allison actions towards them before they had died.

Until Boyd had called the young man by name, Talia had been worried about what he could want from them, after though she wasn't.

Every one in Purgatory knew the name of Stiles Stilinski. _The Boy Who Ran With_ _Wolves. Red, the Hunter's Bane_. The young man who saved and trained the children of the ones who died by the hands of hunters. It had broken Talia's heart when the young betas of the Beacon Hills pack found their way to her home. Frightened and traumatized having been abandoned by their alpha and killed by hunters. Derek had been the one to plead for her to take them in, not one of them twenty when they died. Jordan Parrish had come to them soon after, though he mostly stayed in town. He was one of the few supernatural beings that did. The most interesting one to arrive had been Lydia Martin, she had knocked on the Hales door and told them she was home. Allison had hugged the strawberry blonde, glaring at anyone who dared to say otherwise.

While Talia had been unsure of these new additions to her pack, their presence seemed to bring Derek out of his shell,(when he arrived Talia had been a mess, because Derek's last thoughts had been about his family and his pack. Because of that they had all seen how he had died and who had killed him. Talia was going to have words with Christopher and pray to the Powers That Be for Gerard Argent never let out of Hell.)

Derek was more relaxed and smiled, acting like the boy she raised rather than the broody, silent shadow that haunted her home. Derek was also the only one who never spoke about the young man that had _just punched her son in the face!_

"Damn it," Lydia groaned as the betas held out their hands and she passed back the money she had collected from them back. "I could have sworn Stiles would have kissed Derek once he saw him again, I was sure of it!"

Laura wrinkled her nose, "Who would want to kiss, _Derek_?"

Talia couldn't stop the amused snort that escaped her at the show of hands that went up from the betas. If there was one thing Talia knew? It was that the Hales had two things going for them, good looks and bad luck. Talia watched Derek and Stiles begin a heated argument, she started forward but was stopped by her baby brother's hand on her arm.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," Peter told her, he leaned closer and whispered, mock fearfully, "they'll _turn_ on you."

"YOU MORON!" Stiles shouted at Derek. Derek had a sour expression now. "What were you thinking! Going after her-"

Derek cut him off, "I was thinking about keeping my pack- _Scott's pack_ , alive!"

Stiles waves a hand at the betas, "Well, that did a lot of good, didn't it?"

Derek flinched at Stiles words before glaring as he said harshly, "At least I didn't know _she_ was a complete psycho when _I_ slept with her."

Stiles looked unimpressed, and more than a little irritated as he said, "Really? You really--No, you don't get an opinion about who I slept with, Derek. You were dead! "

Derek snarled throwing up his hands, "I thought you were smarter than to go seeking revenge, Stiles. Look how well that ended for you!"

"Oh, I don't know," Stiles muttered, "it worked pretty well for Peter."

"Don't bring me into your petty arguments," Peter said.

"SHUT UP, PETER!" Both Stiles and Derek shouted.

"Missed you too, Stiles," Peter said, his eyes roamed over Stiles.

"Stop creeping on Stiles, Peter." Derek snarled.

Peter rolled his eyes, "Right, that's your job."

Talia decided to step in before Derek could do more than growl at Peter or Stiles actually pulled the gun from his holster that he was fingering. "Derek, why don't you show Stiles to one of guest rooms. He would probably like a shower and some rest before dinner."

"Yeah, Sourwolf," Derek twitched at the nickname, "I died today, you know. Give me a break." Stiles told him.

"Oh, I'd like to break something," Derek muttered, grabbing Stiles by his coat collar and dragging Stiles up onto the porch.

"Don't ravish the boy too badly, Nephew." Peter said with a smarmy smile, "He needs to be able to actually _sit_ at the dinner table with us." Derek only flashed his eyes in reply, they glowed a bright electric blue at his uncle before Derek continued into the house pulling Stiles behind him.

"Well, that was interesting," Talia commented.

"That was Stiles and Derek." Lydia said, rolling her eyes.

"Even I could _see_ the sexual tension between the two," Viviana said, "that much of it can't be healthy." Alan snickered into his wife's hair. Talia wondered once more why she had chosen the man as her emissary.

"It's only going to get worst," Jordan told them, "they'll kill each other or us with the pining."

"Oh, gods, the pining," Allison muttered.

"Or the snarking," Erica grinned.

"Brooding," Boyd stated.

"Awkward silences or lustful, longing looks," Liam grimaced.

"Why are talking like that kid and my brother's relationship is like a romance novel?" Damon asked, confused.

Laura hit her twin on the back of the head, "Didn't you watch any of Derek's life before he died?"

Damon shook his head.

"Because they pretty much are." Laura told him.

"From what Scott once told me? They were like that from the first moment they met. It-it was like an instant connection between them. " Allison said with a soft sigh.

"They were always saving each others lives. It was so bothersome," Peter muttered, "when they swore to kill the other five minutes later."

"I spent two hours listening to them snark and snap at each other while they were trapped in a swimming pool by the Kanima." Erica said with grin.

"Stiles would often complain about being the male version of Bella Swan. Except with beautiful werewolves, sexy hunters and," Lydia said as she tossed her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, winking at the woman next to Peter, who grinned back at her, "glorious banshees instead of lame sparklingly vampires."

"How did he not lose his mind?" Talia asked.

"Stiles did, you know. He was possessed by a Nogitsune." Peter told her.

"I was talking about Derek." Talia told her brother.

"By dating serial killers or nut jobs that wanted to kill him. Seriously Stiles would be an improvement for Derek." Lydia said.

Brett snorted, "I'm sure Stiles wants to _kill_ Derek himself."

"Yeah," Erica smirked, "but not like in a permanent sense."

Liam frowned, scratching his head, confused, "What kind of death isn't permanent?"

"Many kinds," Mason said with a sly grin at his step-brother.

Hayden groaned, "This is why you failed French, Liam."

"What does French class have to do with anything?" Liam asked.

"Don't worry," Brett mock whispered, "me and Hayden will show you later." causing the blond beta to blush. Talia shook her head at the laughter that ensued at the statement from the adults and teens on the porch.

Suddenly there came the sound of shattering glass from the house and a roar of rage that almost shook the home in it's volume. Talia brought up a hand to rub her temple, feeling a headache coming on. It was at times like this she missed her husband, Phil. But glad that he hadn't joined them yet. Talia had to get use to the fact he would more than likely be bringing his lovers with him when he did. Not that Talia begrudged Phil the happiness he was able to find after he had lost them. He always had been much better at dealing with chaos than she was.

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr: lln3dseethelight.tumblr.com  
> Come and Talk to me


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